Formalities
by Beyond The Mat
Summary: When there's nothing left after a breakup except a cleanup. She wanted to 'borrow' Ted and move her belongings out, but RKO isn't having it. These are formalities. It's easier when behind an emotional wall. Randy Orton. Cody mentioned. Reviews welcome.
1. Chapter 1

**Published September 2011; This didn't come from the public Beyond The Mat roleplay website. This came from elsewhere; Randy's character with another writer's OC diva character were in a long-term relationship. This relationship's beginning can be found in our story "Ladies, Do Not Let RKO Buy You Anything". The near-meltdown with Hunter is in "Intricacies of an ugly breakup." It ended badly, and this is the 'official cleanup', how Randy handled things at home. Some might think it was an "I don't give a fuck" attitude. Quite the contrary. But it is easier to remain behind an emotional wall.**

**Reviews welcome. This is also being published for our current, public Beyond The Mat players and followers to understand our Randy a bit better; this breakup was recent.**

* * *

><p>Randy got in late last night with Tyler. It was one of those Go To Bed, Go Directly To Bed, Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200 nights. All he'd really wanted to do today was sleep in. Not jump in the tanning bed. Just do nothing. Be lazy. Everybody needs that every now and then.<p>

But when he'd gotten home, he saw that Eve's things were still here, just as they'd been before he left this week. Now, they'd been in contact. She told him not to touch her stuff, that she'd pack it, but the more he thought about that, the more paranoid he got.

She could fall down the stairs, get hurt, sue his homeowner's insurance. Accidents happen.  
>She could get the last of her bags and boxes out, then call the cops and say he hit her.<br>Women do some spiteful shit sometimes.

He called his attorney, to put an inquiry in about how to go about this so there was no trouble. "Can he call you back, Mr. Orton? He's on a conference call."  
>"Sure."<p>

So, Randy waited. There was a lot of clothes, accessories, handbags, shoes, boots, makeup, perfume and personal care items. He'd boxed just a little of it and put it in the garage, but went down there and brought that box back up. Why? That'll be explained in a minute.

He went through the other rooms. There was nothing in Alanna's room that belonged to Eve. Same went for Tyler's. He found a necklace of hers in one of the guest rooms, presumably from when she'd slept in one of those. He put that in his pocket. Checking the bathrooms, he found some of her beauty products, and collected those, to bring in his bedroom again. That was it for the 2nd floor.

Downstairs, honestly, he couldn't find anything that belonged to her, and he did try hard. He'd gone through every room, including the laundry room, as well, making sure nothing was left behind. Nothing.

The Range Rover was still outside. Randy had glanced out the window at it, and the phone rang. His attorney was calling back.

Randy explained the situation simply. "We broke up last month. I'm just trying to have her shit removed from the house."

"She lived there over 30 days, Randal?"

"Well, obviously," Randy said.

"She does have some tenant's rights then."

"Huh?"

"If someone lives with you for over 30 days, they do have some rights as a tenant, even if they're not paying you a dime. Couple that with a breakup...what are your plans for her belongings? You're not thinking about selling them or discarding them, are you?"

"Hell no! I'm not that much of an asshole! I was going to have them put at a self-storage place. I was gonna have movers come in and box everything, pack it and move it. I'd pay for everything..." Randy said, defending himself.

"Oh. Alright, it's not as adversarial as I thought it might be." The lawyer was relieved.

"What?" Randy asked.

"Meaning you're not being spiteful or doing anything illegal. Remember, I said the thing about tenant's rights..you also have rights as a property owner. Who initiated the breakup?"

"I did," Randy said.

"And she left the house? Does she come back to visit or anything?"

"She was supposed to be coming in while I'm on the road to get her shit. So far, that hasn't happened."

"What?" Now the lawyer wasn't worried about Randy being potentially lawbreaking anymore. Now he could see his client possibly being taken advantage of. "You're going to let your ex-girlfriend traipse through the house while you're not there and take whatever she pleases? Or maybe have an 'accident', slipping and falling and suing you? Randal, you're leaving yourself wide open for trouble."

"That's...that's why I'm calling you," Randy said. The fact that the lawyer brought up the possible accident angle got Randy nervous. But he never would think Eve would steal from the house, so the lawyer saying that really didn't concern him. It was just the liability issue and a possible false accusation issue. Randy mentioned the false accusation issue.

"That's yet another way this could be trouble for you," the lawyer confirmed. "Breakups can be volatile, and with your luck, you and your children will be the ones moving out while the judge straightens this out if you do this the way you've been doing it thus far."

"So...what -do- I do?"

The lawyer flipped through Randy's files in the office. "You bought a piece of property in both of your names, an investment or vacation property, yes?"

"Yeah, the condo. And you wrote up in the agreement that if we split, she gets it. I told you to put that in there."

The lawyer rolled his eyes as he looked at the document. It wasn't him, it was a junior lawyer in the firm who'd prepared this document. The lawyer looking at it now felt Randy was being entirely too generous. Divorces of legitimate marriages don't always leave the ex-wife with this much.

"Here's what you're going to do, Randal. Go ahead and call those movers. Go with a good company. Anybody can be insured, but I'm going to go ahead and recommend you contract with Werner Donalson Moving. Those "We Do Moving" people. They're very reputable. Are you writing this down?"

"I am now. Go ahead."

"You're going to have the movers inventory everything first. In cases such as this, it's their protocol anyway. They will document every single thing they pack. Every sock, every shoe, every earring, every bottle of nail polish. The company keeps a copy, you get a copy and a copy's laminated and put inside one of the moving boxes for her. This way, you're protected."

"Ok, what else."

"Alright. The movers won't be putting her things in a Lackland Self Storage or similar place, and incur further expenses to you, though. Randal. There's no need for that. You've overlooked the obvious. You're going to have her things moved to that condo that you bought, that becomes her property. Wow," the lawyer sighed, "You really fucked yourself over in this agreement. You put yourself on the hook to pay the maintenance fees even if you no longer have ownership. I don't know how that slipped past whoever typed it up, but if you want me to have that changed..."

"Leave it for now," Randy said quietly, "I put that in there so she wouldn't have to worry about paying for the place. Just tell me what to do."

"Alright. Everything gets moved to the condo. Have a locksmith change the locks on your house when the movers finish, and change your alarm codes. That way, she can't access your house. There won't be any need for her to. Give the movers your keys to the condo and once those keys are returned to you, drop them at my office. I'll then send a letter out to Miss Sharmouta and take your name off the property deed."

"Ok, but one more thing. She has to come get her second vehicle. She's got a Range Rover in my driveway."

"Call a flatbed, Randal, and have it moved to the condo as well. That building has security. She's got car insurance."

"Well, alright," Randy said.

"Call me if you run into any problems," the lawyer said. Randy said he would. They ended the call.

Randy looked up the number for the Werner people and they said they'd be over around 3pm to give the estimate. "I don't want an estimate," Randy said. "I want you to come and do the job." The secretary who took the call wasn't used to hearing that. Normally, people got an estimate, and then the job would be done several days later.

"Let me put you on the phone with my boss," she said. Randy waited.

"You don't want an estimate first?" the boss asked, perplexed.

"No. My lawyer said you guys are reputable, I need the job done."

"Well, we're booked solid for today. The only one I could get out there would be our guy who does estimates. We do have some open hours on tomorrow's schedule for the move, if it's local and not long distance."

Randy verified it was local and not long distance.

"So we'll have the guy come out today, do the estimates and the inventory sheet and drop off the boxes they'll need. You did say you're paying for the packing of the stuff too? You sure you don't want to pack it yourself?"

"I did say I'm paying yous to pack. I don't wanna pack it myself."

"Ok. Bill will be there at 3 to start the paperwork. I can..let me see the schedule a second, Suzanne," he said to the secretary. She passed the clipboard over. "I can have guys at your house to do the move at 8am, 11:30am, or 4pm."

"I'll take the 8am," Randy said. The sooner, the less dramatic.

"Ok then. Bill will be there with you at 3, and our guys will be there at 8am," he said, after he got the address.

The call ended. Randy would just wait for the guy to show up at this point.


	2. Chapter 2

**Published September 2011; This didn't come from the public Beyond The Mat roleplay website. This came from elsewhere; Randy's character with another writer's OC diva character were in a long-term relationship. This relationship's beginning can be found in our story "Ladies, Do Not Let RKO Buy You Anything". The near-meltdown with Hunter is in "Intricacies of an ugly breakup." It ended badly, and this is the 'official cleanup', how Randy handled things at home. Some might think it was an "I don't give a fuck" attitude. Quite the contrary. But it is easier to remain behind an emotional wall.**

**Reviews welcome. This is also being published for our current, public Beyond The Mat players and followers to understand our Randy a bit better; this breakup was recent.**

* * *

><p>Promptly at 3, the guy Bill showed up. Bill was also a wrestling fan, Randy had learned within mere moments-the guy sort of marked out when he realized it was "THE Randy Orton" who he was seeing before his eyes.<p>

Randy downplayed everything. Offered the guy a bottled water, and was quiet and professional. Didn't want to talk shop. Didn't want to say anything that could hit a dirt sheet either. You know how marks are.

Randy did stand by as Bill was doing the inventory. Maybe Bill had been hoping to find some of Eve's ring gear, but didn't. It was just regular clothes and regular possessions. Much of the diva costumes stay with wardrobe and Randy hadn't found so much as an elbow pad when it came to female gear.

The inventory did take quite some time, though. As Bill went through the dresser drawers that Randy motioned to inventory, Randy was also doublechecking his stuff, to make sure none of it got mixed in. He realized he'd put that necklace in his pocket, and turned it over to Bill. "This needs to be accounted for."

Some time later, they'd finished. Bill had asked if "being a Superstar is as cool as it looks?" Mind you, this guy's probably 5-7 years older than Randy. So he's really no kid. Randy just sort of shrugged and said, "Well, you tell me. You're here inventorying shit, obviously I've got problems just like anybody else." Randy hadn't said it in a nasty tone but he did leave no room for the discussion to be reopened.

When everything had been documented, Bill said they had to go over some paperwork so Randy led the guy downstairs to the dining room. There, the papers came out, like insurance riders and some waivers and shit like that. Randy had to fill in the address of where the stuff was going to be moved to, sign some stuff, and put a deposit down.

This wasn't cheap, but it was efficient, and it was secure. This isn't borrowing a couple pals to move shit and if something gets broken, oh well, too bad, it happens, tough shit. This isn't a girl having to come in and struggle either. No. It's big guys who do this for a living, who are licensed and bonded and shit. If they were to break something, there's a process on how to have it refunded or replaced.

Randy and Bill shook hands after the paperwork was complete, and the movers would be there at 8am. There would be a 3-man crew. The job was estimated to take 4 hours total, from packing the inventoried items in the house, to loading the truck, then traveling to the destination and unloading. They weren't being paid to unpack the stuff, obviously. Randy wouldn't have thought to ask that, nor would he think such a service exists. Either way, this would be the last night that "the inventory," as he was now thinking of Eve's belongings, would be in the house.

Sure, it ended badly. But it could've ended a lot worse. He wondered if she ever thought about that. He could've pressured Hunter and made a mockery of her in the locker room: He hadn't. She could've had him arrested at certain points; she didn't. But call it inequality, he'd buy the best lawyers he could and then have gone after her legally and made her absolutely fucking miserable. He wasn't the young, dumb kid who thought that revenge was just mixing up self-tanner and lotion in a girl's purse to make her think somebody shit in it.

No. Older, wiser Randy would have acted with more far-reaching and lasting repercussions. Why? Because he could. Because money allows him to. Because a spitefulness and a desire to see those who he feels has wronged him, punished, lives inside his head. As long as he's not provoked, this will be the end of it and he'll continue to remain civil.

If he is provoked, it will not end well.

* * *

><p>The guys got to the house about an hour ago, and unfortunately, they were pretty loud going up and down the stairs. They wore steel-toed boots and they weren't small guys. Randy had cringed more than a few times, because he knew Tyler got woken up, Cody was still trying to sleep and Goldie's kid was up there, too.<p>

But the guys were professional at what they did, stairs-manners aside. One guy must have interned at The Gap or wherever the fuck the way he was folding the clothes from dresser drawers and putting them in boxes. Garments that were hanging in the closet were being put in wardrobe boxes. Those boxes were actually pretty cool (and not cheap); with the hanging bar inside, things just went straight from the closet on their hangers right into hanging inside the box. Box after box was getting packed. It boggled the mind of how much stuff was coming out of that closet. Jesus Christ.

Things requiring care were being marked on the boxes "Fragile", and being wrapped appropriately either in tissue or bubble wrap. Again, it seemed impossible that large hands could show the care and not clumsiness in this instance. Particularly when Randy saw them wrapping the Murano Glass favors that would've been for the wedding that was never going to happen.

Randy offered and brought up some bottled water for them, and wasn't so much as hovering over them-he was trying not to hover-but to stand by, make sure nothing got left behind. He went through the dresser drawers one more time and there was nothing of hers left in there. He went in and brought a box into the master bath for when the guys got that far. Eve's makeup, shampoos and shit like that were in there. He assembled the box and opened the medicine cabinet, taking out anything that wasn't his or Tyler's and putting it on top of the vanity on the countertops to the sides of the double sinks.

Her hair products and styling tools were in the vanity drawers. and out they came too. Randy took care to wrap the electric cords around them, and did another pass through the cabinets to make sure there wasn't anything of hers left. One thing he did not want to deal with was hearing that she didn't get all of her shit, that it wasn't packed. Or a false accusation that he kept anything for spite. He might be petty sometimes, but he's not that petty. There was even a bottle of Calvin Klein Unisex cologne that wasn't on the inventory list and Randy was pretty sure it was his, but since there was a question in his mind on whose it was, he set that out to be packed, too.

Better safe than sorry.

He left the master bath and the men were still attacking the closet. One turned and looked at Randy. "We're about halfway through packing," he said, "and we should start loading the truck in about an hour."

Randy nodded and told them, "I'm downstairs if you need me," and headed that way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Published September 2011; This didn't come from the public Beyond The Mat roleplay website. This came from elsewhere; Randy's character with another writer's OC diva character were in a long-term relationship. This relationship's beginning can be found in our story "Ladies, Do Not Let RKO Buy You Anything". The near-meltdown with Hunter is in "Intricacies of an ugly breakup." It ended badly, and this is the 'official cleanup', how Randy handled things at home. Some might think it was an "I don't give a fuck" attitude. Quite the contrary. But it is easier to remain behind an emotional wall.**

**Reviews welcome. This is also being published for our current, public Beyond The Mat players and followers to understand our Randy a bit better; this breakup was recent.**

* * *

><p>Well, they hadn't needed him. Randy had given Eve the date of when shit was going down and to be honest, he half-expected, maybe half-hoped she'd have shown up to assist on this. But that hope was probably fucked up. Because then shit could've gotten bad real fast. They'd been keeping their distance and that's how it should remain. Unless she brought a cop with her to protect both of them from he saidshe said, yeah, it's better she doesn't show up.

_Might've been nice to see her, though_, he thought to himself.  
><em>STUPID! STUPID! NO! It's OVER, it's DONE, the FUCK are you thinking?<em>other thoughts came in, berating himself. No, he wasn't wishing her back, he just wished that they'd parted on better terms.

Her abandoning her shit here though put him at a liability.

_You ain't a free storage bin._  
><em>Fuck you, I'm not even thinking like that.<em>  
><em>Her shit's here, guess who's responsible for it? Even the attorney said this is the only way<em>

Conflicting thoughts, then the voice of reason stood out. Yes, the attorney said this is the only way.

Randy heard the beeping of the flatbed backing up into the driveway. The flatbed was from a local repair/wrecker place, not the movers themselves. Randy went out to go watch the flatbed driver get the Rover onto the bed. Now, had Randy been an asshole, he'd have called for a "hook," the simple tow truck that simply lifts one end of a vehicle and drags it on 2 wheels. Luxury vehicles suffer when treated that way.

So a flatbed it was.  
>Wasn't cheap, either.<p>

Never let it be said that he was a fucking asshole about how things went down. From having the presence of mind to consult with the attorney, to basically -giving- her a settlement (property)...the only woman who'd ever "profited" more off of him was Sam. And Sam gave him 2 children over many years. Eve gave him, what exactly?

A hell of a year. Ups and downs, but then leaving her shit here, for him to clean up the mess. For him to deal with.

Yes, he was a dominant man, and yes, he liked being in control of shit, but was realizing that he had left himself way too wide open for trouble.

And maybe it would've been nice to have felt like every now and again, he was being taken care of, more so than being the caretaker. He'd never be 50/50 with -any- woman, but even 70/30 might've been nice.

He knew that should there be another serious relationship, it would have to be with a woman who had more of a normal life. Who wouldn't be sneaking around making videos with some fucking guy spilling ice cream and whipped cream on him and shit. Who wasn't singing songs that some rumored were about Randy. Who wasn't seeking attention lke that. Who hadn't fucked Batista. Who just...wanted to be part of his life, but not compete with him on certain levels.

Sure, Randy had a lot of conquests. Didn't mean he wanted his female partner to have that sort of vast experience. If Eve had told the truth (and he suspected she hadn't) about only having 3 partners prior to Randy, well, Dave counted as 15 by himself. Randy had seen that forearm passing itself off as Dave's dick in the locker room.

Sure, Randy wanted to make more movies and DVDs. But didn't want to feel like there was some sort of competition going on. That if he had a photoshoot, his girl would have to have bigger and better. It wasn't fucking healthy. At all.

He thought of his parents. No, Cowboy and Mom, they were too different. She was tethered to Florissant by her job in those days. Same went for Ted and Kristen. But Ted seemed to have hit a secret formula. Somebody who travels with us but who isn't doing what the fuck we do. Who isn't seeking attention. Cody seemed to be doing fine, holding his own, but Cody was private like that. Was he banging Layla anymore? Didn't know. Didn't ask. Wasn't like Layla came over here, so Randy had no insider knowledge on this. He did NOT want to end up like Cena, banging rats once a year like birthday sex because nobody was putting out in relationships.

He watched as the Rover left on the flatbed and went back in the house, to find that the movers were now transitioning all boxes downstairs. The foyer was holding many boxes already and there were only a few more trips upstairs before they started loading the truck.

It was almost over.

* * *

><p>And...now it was over.<p>

The guys had packed the truck and Randy had signed the paperwork stating that he'd been present for this leg of the job. The packing of the belongings as inventoried and the packing of the truck. This covered Randy's ass, basically, this paperwork. Disreputable companies don't even offer this to sign. It wasn't a paper that said "They packed the shit and nothing broke". No, it was simply "They packed the shit."

Anything that might break is covered by the movers' insurance.

None of the movers took a ride on the stairs or walkway, which meant Randy's homeowners insurance wouldn't need involvement. Yet another reason to work with a company with a good reputation.

He thought about moving companies like wrestling companies. Work with the 'E, and those are the optimal conditions, given the nature of the business. Work with a shitty company like TNA, that's gonna be the company full of felons and druggies and thieves and shit.

Randy had called ahead to the front desk at what was now going to be the condo under Eve's sole ownership, once the last belonging touched the ground, so maintenance would go up with the building's set of keys to let the movers use the freight elevator as well as let them in. The flatbed had already dropped the Rover off at the unit's assigned parking space. The keys to the Rover were given to the concierge, who would give them to the movers to leave on the table inside the condo.

Everything was above-board.  
>Nothing had been done in a shady manner.<br>There was no room left to question how shit had been run. It had been top of the line. No running around to liquor stores begging for boxes, no asking buddies to come help, no spitefulness.

Simply, professionalism. Legal methods employed.

While he might be white trash at heart, when it came to certain shit, even white trash, when they had the money, could buy advice on how to do shit properly. That's what he'd done, that's how it went.

The movers called Randy 2 hours later to let him know that all boxes were off the truck, now in the unit, and the keys to the vehicle (which wasn't the moving company's responsibility, but was a courtesy) were on the kitchen counter, "Which is more visible than a table."

The condo had been locked up and the keys to the unit left as instructed.

It couldn't have gone any better.

Damn shame it ever had to go at all, but such is life.


End file.
